


sketch

by bellowbacks



Series: Steve/Bucky Flash Fics [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, steve does art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 04:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellowbacks/pseuds/bellowbacks
Summary: “Hey Steve,” Bucky said from the other end of the long couch they were sharing. “You still draw?”Or: Steve shares his sketchbooks with Bucky again almost 80 years later.





	sketch

“Hey Steve,” Bucky said from the other end of the long couch they were sharing. “You still draw?”

Steve froze. They were watching a movie together, one of the new Star Wars films, and Steve had assumed that since they were watching a movie, there wouldn’t be chit chat. Not that he didn’t like talking to Bucky, just that… It was different, now. Not bad, just different. 

“Uh, yeah,” he managed. Bucky nodded. 

“Can I see?” Bucky asked. His hair was pulled back and just for a second, Steve could see the two of them sitting on the shitty, worn out couch that they had bought for their shared apartment in 1941. 

Steve just looked at him for a second before picking up the remote from the table and pausing the movie. “Yeah, sure. Let me get my book,” he said and stood up. He almost lost his balance for a second, that’s how hard he had been thrown into that memory. He walked along the hallway to his room, looking briefly into the retina scanner to be allowed in. One of the first things he had done when Bucky had come back was tell Friday to add Bucky’s scan to the list of people allowed into his room. 

Steve grabbed his sketchbook from where it lived on his desk, and then hesitated for a second. He thought it over, and then grabbed his first sketchbook from when he had woken up in 2012. He then softly walked back out of his room, down the hallway, and back into the common living space he and Bucky were occupying. 

He sat closer to Bucky than he had been before. He told himself that it was so Bucky could look over his sketchbooks, but when their thighs pressed together, he felt his heart ache. 

“Here,” he said softly and slid the more recent one over to him. “I started this one a few months back.” 

Bucky opened the cover carefully, like he thought he might break it, and started looking at the drawings. There were a lot of random people that Steve had seen in coffee shops around the world, or ran past in a hurry and had their faces stuck in his mind. He drew from real life the most often, so there were some drawings of Tony’s sharp, angular face and others of Natasha’s curly hair. 

There were some of the other Avengers, some of Sharon, some of Peggy both old and young, but above all there were drawings of Bucky. 

This sketchbook fell right into it, dark charcoal smudges forming the face of the fierce Winter Soldier. There were pencil sketches of the lines of Bucky’s metal arm, drawings of Bucky’s hair pulled back, let loose, dark and sweaty in front of his face. Steve knew he drew Bucky more than anything, but he knew even more that the sketchbook he still held in his hands was worse. 

Bucky seemed to linger on some of the drawings of him, especially as he drew closer to the most recent drawing Steve had done, as they had grown more intimate and careful the closer Steve had been able to study Bucky’s face. 

When he got to the section of still empty pages, Bucky gave Steve a crooked smile. “You’re still real good at this, Stevie,” he said softly. His breath smelled like popcorn and Bucky. “What’s that one?” he asked, gesturing to the more worn notebook Steve held against his chest. 

“Uh, it’s the first sketchbook I got when I was… Defrosted,” Steve said with a soft laugh that he didn’t feel. “It’s… a lot more tragic.”

Bucky tilted his chin towards Steve and raised his eyebrows. “Can I see?” he asked, and again Steve felt like he was 23 years old with a helluva crush and asthma, still. Still, he nodded and slid the notebook into Bucky’s lap. He took his new sketchbook back and opened it to a blank page, starting to study Bucky’s reactions as he flipped through the pages. 

This one was almost entirely filled with memories. There were hundreds of drawings of Bucky, up to ten drawings on a single page sometimes, and still more drawings of old Brooklyn, Peggy, their apartment, his shield, even Redskull. Bucky was silent while he flipped through it until he got about halfway through it. 

Steve knew which drawing he had stopped on without even looking from Bucky’s tired face to the page. 

“I’m sorry, Steve,” he said quietly. Steve finally looked down at the drawing. 

It was all thick, dark lines and sketchy shading. The corner of the page was water damaged, and Steve knew it was because he had been crying when he had done this one, when he had drawn Bucky’s terrified face screaming up at him as he flew off of a train and into a snowy gulch. 

“Don’t be. You’re here now, aren’t you?” he replied after a second. “It’s okay.”

Bucky thumbed the corner of the page before glancing at Steve, then looking back at the page, then turning the page. Steve shifted a little closer to look at the sketchbook too, resting his face lightly on Bucky’s left shoulder. It was covered by a worn shirt that he had definitely stolen from Steve, but he could still feel the chilled metal against his cheek. Bucky stilled for a second before turning his head, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Steve’s head, and then turning back to the book in his lap. 

He flipped through the rest of the sketchbook without issue, and Steve felt himself nodding off against Bucky’s solid form by the time he had finished. 

He was just awake enough to feel Bucky set the sketchbook down on the table next to the couch and wrap his arm around Steve’s snoozing body. 

“Love you,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s hair. Steve managed to mumble something back, and then he fell asleep.


End file.
